Summer Secrets
by matches9524
Summary: After Hermione is forced to stay at Malfoy Manor for the entire summer, she and Malfoy must learn to coexist. And she also realizes that she has a new talent, but whether it's a blessing or a curse depends on who she asks.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my new Dramione fic. I'm trying to keep it original, but really, there are so many great ideas out there that nothing is really original anymore. But we'll see how this goes. You'll have to let me know if you like it! **

**This disclaimer goes with all subsequent chapters: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related. Only the plot and anything that sounds like it is original is mine. Huge props to JKR.**

Hermione woke up in a daze and looked around her. She was lying in a pair of strong arms, being carried down a dark torch-lit corridor. She looked to see who held her but his face (she assumed it was a man by the smell of the cologne) was in shadow, covered by his hood. He looked down at her, judging by the movement of the cloak's hood, and he whispered "Go back to sleep, Hermione. You're safe with me." In her daze, Hermione believed him, and drifted back into oblivion, away from the troubles that had plagued her.

The next time she awoke, she was alone in a dark room, in a large bed. The satin sheets were cool as she rolled over onto her stomach, and she drifted back to sleep.

She was awakened by the sound of heavy drapes being opened, and soft morning light penetrated the bedroom, and she could observe everything clearly. She lay in a four-poster bed that was dressed with navy blue satin sheets. The room was large and the furniture in it was all very dark. The room was unfamiliar.

She looked about to see who had opened the drapes, but there was no one there. Curious.

Outside the French doors that the drapes had been covering, Hermione saw there was a balcony. Getting out of the bed, she put on a flannel dressing gown she saw lying on the chest at the foot of the bed. She opened the door, and a cool morning breeze blew in, carrying on it the deliciously tart scent of the ocean and rain, as well as the sounds of early morning birds. She stood at the rails, and watched the shore, a mere ten meters from the building she occupied. The water crashed onto the sand, and then receded back to the sea. Crash and recede, crash and recede.

The cool air helped to wake her up and Hermione soon came to her senses. Where was she? Whose house was this? And more importantly, who had been carrying her last night? Going back into the room, Hermione discovered a note laying on an antique vanity across the room from the bed.

_Miss Granger—_

_Good morning. I hope you slept pleasantly. There are Muggle clothes set out for you in the bathroom. When you've dressed, please come downstairs (make a left at the hallway outside your door, follow it to the end of the hall, go down two flights of stairs and you will find the library). It is a rather awkward situation that we find ourselves in, so it would be best we talk it out. I'll be in the library waiting for you._

_--Your humble servant_

There was no signature. With no comment beyond raised eyebrows, Hermione went through a door to her left and entered a rather beautiful bathroom. Everything was either gold or a rich creamy color, and it was a spectacular sight. There was a huge bathtub right in the middle with dozens of spigots and faucets coming off of it. Eyeing a stand-alone shower in the corner, she jumped in and out, just long enough to refresh herself. In a fluffy cotton towel, she looked around for the Muggle clothes the note had mentioned and saw a simple white sundress folded in the counter next to the sink. Putting it on, she saw it fit her like a dream and complemented her summer tan. Allowing her hair to dry into soft natural waves, Hermione headed downstairs to the library.

She passed through the splendidly decorated halls and gasped. She literally gasped at some of the artifacts on the walls. There were paintings of beautiful people, ancient tapestries, antique weapons, beautiful engravings, and other things of that ilk. She was tempted to stop and examine every one, but she didn't want to keep whoever was waiting for her in the library, so she kept walking, content to observe the walls out of the corner of eye, so as not to let her interest get the better of her.

After descending two flights of stairs, Hermione reached what was obviously the library. There were two huge oak doors, at least twenty feet tall, that it required the strength of two stone guards to open.

"Miss Granger," they said in unison. "He is awaiting your arrival within." She nodded mutely as they granted her entrance, their stony muscles bulging at the strain of opening such heavy doors.

The room was huge. It was larger than the Quidditch Pitch and the Great Hall at Hogwarts combined. She didn't know where to go from here, but she saw a glow from a lit fireplace at the opposite end of the room. It was very dim, because of the distance. She decided that it was a good place to aim for, as it showed signs of some sort of, hopefully, human inhabitance. It seemed to take ages to walk to, down the center aisle of the library, surrounded by rows upon rows of shelves of books that she was just dying to get her hands on. The aisle was wide and it was occasionally dotted with goldenrod or sage sofas and small tables, complete with parchment, quills, and ink. It was obviously an extremely efficient library, perfect for doing research or studying.

After about an hour (really it was only about forty-five seconds, which is honestly a really long time; try holding your breath that long) Hermione finally reached the fireplace. The person she was to meet was sitting on a sofa directly facing the fireplace, silhouetted by the light. She could not see who it was.

"Er—" she started. She didn't know what to say.

The mystery man jumped up and turned to face her. He was very tall, but she still couldn't see his face for the backlighting of the fire.

She squinted. "I'm sorry Mr. uh… I can't see you. The light…" she gestured vaguely towards the fireplace.

Mystery Man stepped to the side, and even though his features were apologetic, she recognized him instantly. Draco Malfoy.

Her breath hitched in her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked, with more than just a hint of malice in her voice.

"Please, Granger, before you say or do anything you might regret in my house, take a seat, so I can explain the situation to you." He didn't sound malevolent in any way. He just had a carefully controlled note of precaution to his words.

She eyed him uneasily, her gaze snapping from him to the sofa, then back to him. She stood where she was and said nothing.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, take a seat. There's no harm in that. There are a few things we need to talk about, and then, if you like, you'll be free to go about your merry way." He gestured at the sofas behind him.

She walked around the other side of the sofa, and perched herself at the edge of a wing chair that flanked it as ninety degree angle. She suddenly became painfully aware of how short and form fitting the dress she wore was.

As Malfoy turned to sit back onto the sofa, Hermione took the opportunity to observe him. He had gained some muscle mass since the last time she had seen him, and he had gotten a slight tan, as well as a dash of light freckles across the bridge of his narrow nose. He wore a gray sweater, probably cashmere by the looks of it, the sleeves pulled up to his forearms, and some nice form-hugging jeans. He was barefoot, and looked quite comfortable. His gray eyes sparkled as the fire danced and popped.

"What am I doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione bit out.

"First things first, welcome to Malfoy Manor. It's actually quite a rather cheery place, if you haven't noticed." He waved his arm about aristocratically. "Now, Granger, the story I'm going to tell you is rather odd, but if you don't believe me, there is a pensieve that I can use that will allow you to see that what I say is true."

"Does it have anything to do with why I'm in your home?"

"It has everything to do with it. Now don't interrupt me anymore."

She glared at him, but said nothing.

"Yesterday, I went to Knockturn Alley to sell some old artifacts of this house that I didn't want around." She opened up her mouth, but at the sight of his upraised hand she didn't say anything. "And guess who I saw there but the brainy third of the Golden Trio, being hovered unconsciously in the square, over a pit of deformed Blast-Ended Skrewts. There was a good crowd of people about, cheering and carrying on and the like. I think they were going to drop you and watched you get mauled to death. Nothing pleasant, mind you." Her eyes grew wide. "I'm going to be honest, I don't like you. But after all you've done for me in the last few months, you and the Order; I just couldn't let them do that to you. So I said something to them along the lines of I was taking you to experiment or torture you or something. I can't remember exactly. But I was able to get you in my possession and I brought you back here. And that wasn't just a mob. That was a bunch of people who were out to get you. I knew a good amount of them and I _know_ there aren't going to stop hunting you until you're in their possession once again." He finished grimly into the fire.

He turned to face her and she had gone extremely pale. "Won't they just come and hunt me down here? I mean, they obviously know it was _you_ that took me!"

"Well I've got good news for you." She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and terror. "Only a Malfoy can pass within the boundaries of Malfoy Manor without my permission, since I'm the only surviving Malfoy. I've revoked all my former invitations. You're the only one who can. They are physically unable to come here."

"What am I going to do? When I go home, they'll just follow me there and kill me!" she wailed.

"You're going to stay here until school starts. If you say yes, we'll floo Dumbledore and let him know the situation. Hogwarts will be safe once school starts as long as you stay in the castle."

Her head snapped up, from looking at her knees to looking him direct in the eyes. "I can't stay here."

"Why not? Do you _want_ to die? There's nothing Potter or Weasley can do to save you. They don't have a safe place to take you."

She sat silent for a moment or two. "You don't honestly think we'll be able to be civil to each other until school starts in _three months_?"

"If not, the Manor is big enough that we can go without seeing each other."

He seemed to have an answer for everything. "Do you _want_ me to stay here?"

"Honestly? Yes. I'd rather you stayed here than get killed."

She stood up, walked to the fireplace, and stared into it. She was silent. She was silent for so long that Malfoy thought she was either asleep or ignoring him.

"Fine. I'll stay here."

"Good. You can stay in the room that you're in right now if you like it."

She ignored that and asked "Why are they after me?"

"Even though Voldemort is gone, there are still some of his followers that mistakenly believe that he will be able to come back if they kill Potter. To get to Potter they had to get you, use you as bait and—" He stopped as Hermione held up her hand, not wanting to hear any more.

"I said I'd stay, Malfoy."

**Well, that was chapter one. Let me know what you think. And since I'm not a mind reader, the only way you can do that is by reviewing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just want to make a shout out to the eleven people who reviewed the first chapter. I myself am quite guilty of not reading shorter fics, so you guys are pretty much awesome. Here's Chapter 2, just for you! –M**

"Professor Dumbledore!" Malfoy shouted, and then thrust his blonde head into the fire.

Hermione couldn't hear his conversation with the headmaster. Since he had been the one to floo, his head was all the way in Hogwarts, in whatever part of the country that was. No one knew for sure. Every once in a while he would gesticulate wildly with his hands, despite the fact that the headmaster was in no position to see their movements. However, when he emerged from the flames, his head and neck covered in ash and soot, he looked expressionless and there was no way Hermione could fathom in the least what he was thinking.

They sat together on the sofas, Hermione wondering what was going to happen to her, Malfoy appearing as though he were deep in thought, waiting for someone to appear or something to happen. After nearly twenty minutes of sitting silently on the sofas ignoring each other before the fire, only the popping of the logs to break the monotony, Hermione heard the sound of the great oak doors at the far end of the library slowly creak open. There was the sharp _tic tic tic _of someone's feet in high-heeled boots treading upon the cream-coloured marble floors, and Hermione saw Professor Dumbledore striding confidently down the aisle towards them. As he reached where they were sitting, Malfoy stood, and a few stunned seconds later, a very confused and curious Hermione Granger followed suit.

"Good morning, Headmaster." Malfoy said, and then nearly instantly echoed by Hermione.

"Good morning Master Malfoy, Miss Granger." _She seems to be taking it rather well._

Hermione started violently, and then looked up at the Headmaster. "I'm sorry?"

"I said 'good morning'." He eyed her curiously. _Malfoy does seem to be over exaggerating the danger that she's in. I wonder what his ultimate plan is._

Hermione stared at him. _Why is she gawking at me like that? Did I forget to get porridge out of my beard this morning? _Professor Dumbledore looked down at his chest self-consciously.

"Miss Granger, are you alright? Master Malfoy, have you had her looked at by a real nurse yet? I'm sure you had the servants give her the once over, but was there any professional care involved?" The Headmaster looked rather worried.

"I'm quite fine. I—I just think… Maybe I—Yes. I should perhaps go lie down for a spell."

"Oh of course." _I wonder what could possibly be the matter with her. If she's going to be staying with Malfoy I want to make sure that he keeps a vigilant eye on my star student._

"Her—Granger, do you know how to get back up to your room?" Malfoy asked, with no hint of hatred or malice in his voice. Hermione wasn't caught off guard, however. She didn't even notice. She was looking at the Professor inquisitively

"Up two flights, is it not?" She returned, whilst staring at Dumbledore.

"Yes; fourth door on the right. Watch out for Rocky."

"Rocky?"

"He's err—my pet raccoon that likes to roam the fourth floor. Just take care not to step on him. He's a disagreeable little bugger in the morning."

"Well, alright then. I'll be sure to look out for… Rocky. I thank you. I do think I'll lie down a bit and try to—try to clear my head. It still seems to be full of cobwebs." She shook her head viciously and began to walk towards the far oak doors, completely forgetting her manners, neglecting to bid adieu to her host as well as her Headmaster. Once she had the chance to lie down and think, she'd be much better. She just needed to work through all this new information, hoping to come to some sort of conclusion.

The two men watched her retreating figure with very different thoughts on their minds.

Hermione reached the doors, waited for the stone guards to open them up, and headed up to her room without taking a second look at any of the intriguing items upon the walls. She didn't want to think, because if she did, she knew the answer that would get. And that wasn't something she wanted.

Opening the door to her bedroom, although she didn't think of it as such, it wasn't hers, she wandered slowly to the bed, removing her dress at the same time. She draped it over the back of the chair that was coupled with the vanity. It would be best not to wrinkle it, and besides, it wasn't comfortable to lie under covers with clothes on.

What was going on with her down in the library? She crawled under the covers and her head sunk into the down-filled pillows. What was this weird phenomenon occurring in her head? If she didn't know better, she would have believed that she was hearing the Headmaster's thoughts! But that was manifestly absurd. Why would she be able to hear them? But then, she realized, she didn't know what kind of trauma she had been through in that episode in Knockturn Alley. Anything could have happened to her. So, hypothetically, it was possible. But there was nothing remarkable about her, she noted. She had no special talents besides her nearly photographic memory. But anything was possible… Her eyes began to droop slowly.

The next thing she knew, there was a heavy weight depressing the side of the bed. Her eyes slowly opened, the light causing her pupils to contract painfully. Once they had adjusted and she shook away anything that was left of her sleepiness, she realized that Draco Malfoy was sitting on the edge of the bed.

She sat up sharply, inching back towards the headboard with the covers gripped tightly in her hand, pulled up to her chin.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" She spat.

He looked taken aback at her anger. "I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing. You didn't look all that great downstairs this morning."

"Did you forget how to knock?"

"Please, Granger, don't get so angry and rude. You are in my house after all. I was concerned about you, and _yes_, I did knock. You were asleep, so I didn't want to wake you. I just wanted to check and make sure you were—that everything was okay."

"I'm sorry." Her apology was genuine. "You mean you wanted to check to make sure I was alive?"

"I suppose. Anything was possible after that turn back in London. Can't have you kicking the bucket on me now. Everyone will have thought I killed you."

She smiled at him. "I'm fine. I just thought—I mean, I had a headache earlier."

Malfoy could see that this isn't what she wanted to say, but he wanted to earn her trust, so he didn't push the matter. The only way he could do that was to make sure that she was comfortable around him, and he realized that even _that_ would be an ordeal after all that he had inflicted upon her over the years.

"What did the Headmaster have to say? I feel horrible that I had to leave right when he arrived." She grinned apologetically. It was rather endearing.

"Well, we talked about what had happened to you. He seemed to think it was rather significant that it occurred in Knockturn Alley rather than in some secluded location. But we discussed that and came to the same conclusions that I had. We also discussed what is to become of you…"

"And? What did he say?"

"He agreed, although rather reluctantly, that this is the best, most secure location for you to stay. He wanted you to stay up at Hogwarts, but he knew the Governors would never approve. No student has ever been allowed to stay in the castle after term is over." Well, maybe that's not the exact reason that the Headmaster gave, but there was no reason for her to know that. "But don't forget. No one is allowed to come onto the grounds. I've taken back all the invitations that have ever been offered in the history of the Manor. That is, of course, yours and now the Professor's. No one will be able to get to you here."

"I couldn't just go back home?" It was a shot in the dark, but hopefully something would come of it.

"I'm sorry, but I just can't let you go there. We discussed that too. While it is secluded and remote, the wards on it are perfunctory and would let even the most inept wizard through." He shook his head. "No."

"I feel horrible imposing upon you for the whole summer though."

"Don't worry about it. Maybe if you don't piss me off, I'll let you have a friend or two over."

"Well, I guess I won't see them until classes start. You don't honestly think we'll be able to do this do you?"

"I was hoping, but it does take two for a friendship to work out."

Did he say friendship? They couldn't be friends. They were diametrically opposed! "So, no one else lives here?" She wanted to change the subject to something less… volatile.

"I might have a few of my best mates over, but that's about it. I'm not really the 'social butterfly' type."

"Who are your friends?" She didn't know he had friends. Cronies, of course, but friends?

"Theodore Nott, um, Blaise Zabini's older brother Calvin. He went to Beauxbatons because he had a godfather or something that taught there."

"Oh. I didn't know he had a brother. I thought he was an only child."

"They're not close." He smiled as he heard Hermione's stomach give an almighty roar. She must've been hungry. It was half past two in the afternoon and she hadn't eaten since the previous day. She grinned sheepishly and blushed.

"Shall I show you into the kitchens, Miss Granger?" He grinned back at her, and held out his arm in mock chivalry.

She blushed even deeper. "Could you please hand me my dress first?"

**Well, I am quite aware this is a rather short chapter. But I wanted to get something up there for those who had commented on my first chapter. I promise I will work on this some more; it's rather fun! Now, review that way I'll know what you're thinking! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, here's the next installment. I'm trying really hard to keep these guys in character, so PLEASE let me know if they're not. I mean, sooner or later they will be, but for the present, I would like for them to be somewhat realistic. SolarGuardianChick was the only one who picked up a small point that is crucial to the plot and I'm very proud of her for that!**

When they were headed into the kitchen, Hermione was looking at the floor as she passed over the threshold. So she didn't see when Malfoy, who was a pace or two ahead of her, stopped short in his tracks, and she ran into his broad back. She looked up sourly and rubbed her head as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"When did you get here?" She heard him say.

She stood on tiptoe and peered over his shoulder curiously, looking to see who he was speaking to. She didn't recognize the man, but he was nearly beautiful. He was about Malfoy's height with curly black hair and bright, piercing blue eyes.

"About ten minutes ago." _Oh. He has a lady friend. That's where he's been. He should have told me about that. _"Who's that behind you Draco?"

"Oh, this is Hermione Granger." He stepped off to the side so his friend could see her. _Oh Merlin, look at that little thing. I wouldn't mind tapping _that _up._ Hermione's eyes widened. "Miss Granger, this is my friend, Calvin. Calvin Zabini, I believed I mentioned him to you in passing."

"Um, Malfoy? I thought you said no one could get on the grounds." She was nervous, twirling a lock of hair about her two fingers. Malfoy looked at her, and the expression on his face and the look he was giving her, for some reason, prompted butterflies to start fluttering madly about in her stomach.

"I thought I mentioned it? Your friends, and just a handful of mine can get on too. Maybe I didn't say that?" Hermione was distinctly aware of Calvin's eyes lingering over her body; from her bare feet with their rosebud-colored nails, to her strong thighs, her tiny waist, her small yet full breasts, then a few extra seconds on her breasts, to her collarbones, and finally up to her face. _Merlin, oh Merlin. Merlin. _A few seconds later_ Merlin, just kill me now and I'll die happy. Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. Oh Merlin._ It was almost comical, if it hadn't been her that he was thinking about.

"…I'm sorry. What? You said…"

He looked at her curiously. "Never mind. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just—My head got filled up for a second." Calvin still didn't have his eyes on her face. "I hate to be a pest, but could we possibly eat? It's very nice to have met you Calvin, but I haven't eaten since yesterday morning; I think my stomach is going to start digesting itself if I don't feed it in the next three and half minutes." _And she's clever too. I mean, she's definitely cute, hot even, but she's not nearly as horrible as Malfoy's whined about since he started school. _"I'm not hor—I mean… I'm not…trying to be a bother. I'm really not." Her pulse was pounding; she had almost retorted to what Calvin had been_ thinking_ and that wouldn't have been good.

"Hermione," _Did he just call her Hermione? _Malfoy shook his head and nearly laughed, "You're not being a nuisance, so stop worrying about it." He flicked his wand, and a bowl of something appeared on the island in the middle of the kitchen, along with three small bowls. Hermione stepped over and peered into the serving bowl.

"Er, what is it?"

"Good question." He laughed, a good, brief belly laugh, and Calvin looked at him. _He never laughs like that around girls. He must be really comfortable around her._ "I haven't thought of a name for it. But it's really good, I promise. It's Muggle cheese and macaroni—"

"Macaroni and cheese," she corrected gently.

"What?"

"It's macaroni and cheese, not cheese and macaroni."

"Oh. How silly of me." He grinned sheepishly and looked away. _He's nearly whipped already! I've got to put a stop to this before he loses all respect for himself. But she is really hot so I don't really blame him. _"Well, it's _macaroni and cheese_," his eyes glittered as he chuckled, "with sliced tomatoes, chicken chunks, and black olives. It sounds crazy and Muggle-y, I know, but it's so good."

"There's really no such thing as Muggle food, Draco," Calvin said. "It's just food that we don't usually eat."

"Oh. Well, whatever." He scooped a bowl, and, instead of sitting down with it like Hermione thought he would, he passed it to her and scooped another.

"Well thank you. What chivalry," She joked.

He smiled and passed the next bowl to Calvin. He scooped another for himself and led them out onto the terrace that was adjoined to the kitchen by large French doors. Out there, there were a few chairs arranged into a little sitting area, looking out over the rails to the sea. He stood and waited until Hermione had sat down, then took the seat to her right. Calvin sat across the table, since there were only two seats to a side. He looked a little disappointed and Hermione heard a little _damn_ when Malfoy sat down.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Malfoy looked incredulous as she picked pieces of chicken out of her bowl and put them down into his.

"I'm not in a chicken mood right now." She giggled.

"And what kind of mood, pray tell, are you in?" _Oh Merlin. Just ask her if you want to lay her._

"I couldn't tell you. Just not a chicken one."

He smiled. A genuine smile, which had not once been flashed in her direction whilst they had been together at Hogwarts. It was rather nice. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not offended."

She grinned back at him. "I wasn't worried about it."

"You should have been."

"Do I need to worry about you?"

"Well yes. What if something happened to me? Wouldn't you be devastated?" _For Merlin's sake, stop flirting already! It's making me sick…_

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you." She laughed so he would know that she wasn't being serious.

"But you're not me."

"You're right. That's a very astute observation Mister Malfoy."

"It is." She laughed at him. "Wait. Hold on. Let me think of something to say." She laughed again and polished off the rest of her pasta.

She looked towards Calvin, who had sat forgotten on his side of the table. "So, Mister Zabini, you went to Beauxbatons, did you not?"

"Yes I did." _Where is this going? There's nothing interesting to talk about when you start talking about school_.

"Oh. Okay. That's all I wanted to ask. Talking about school gets boring fast, so I did my best."

He laughed and looked at her strangely. "That's odd. I was just thinking that."

She smiled mildly and said "Hmm, how about that," rather mysteriously. _Hmm._

A gull came and perched on the landing. The albino peacocks that strolled the grounds squawked up at it, but it sat there unperturbed. Hermione looked at it, pondering. If only she could be like that gull, free to come and go as she pleased without the fear of repercussions. As she thought this, the gull suddenly burst into flight, leaving behind a feather in its wake. The spontaneity bothered her; there was nothing about to scare it off, and she felt uneasy. After a moment though, she just chalked it up to anxiety and let it go. She flicked her wand, and the forgotten feather whisked over to where she sat, and she plucked it out of the air. _What does she want that dirty old feather for?_

She considered the feather, and with another flick of the wand, the feather disappeared to end up in her room. It was a symbol of freedom to her, and she wasn't ready to just get her hands on it and then throw it away. Maybe after this whole situation with Voldemort's followers blew over, she'd be back to her carefree ways. She must have had a faraway expression on her face, because when Malfoy placed his hand over hers to get her attention, she started violently and snatched it back.

"I'm sorry." He looked rather taken aback.

"Oh. No. It's no worries. It just—it startled me, that's all." But she kept her hand in her lap. She collected herself for a second. "Have you thought of anything to say yet?"

"That's what I said, but you weren't listening." He put on a pouty face, his mouth and nose scrunching up unattractively.

"Oh, Merlin. Don't make that face. It doesn't become you." _Here we go again._ "I'm listening now. Tell me."

"I said, 'After Calvin leaves,' which by the way should be sometime soon after lunch," he said pointedly. _Whoa. Testosterone is kicking in. He must be picking up on her pheromones and needs to get me out of her so they can go rut. _Hermione snorted, covering her mouth. Her eyes got wide at the sound issuing from her own mouth, and she laughed at herself. "I offered to take you on a tour of the grounds and of the Manor. That is, of course, as long as you're up for it. I know you weren't feeling well earlier today, so it's okay if we put it off for a bit." His gray eyes were staring deep into her soul, and she felt naked. She looked down at herself to make sure she still had the dress on.

"No, Malfoy, it'll be fine. I need to ask you though; would it be okay if we sent for some of my clothes? I can't just wear this dress and that flannel dressing gown all summer long."

"I wouldn't object to it if you did." Signature smirk. _Neither would I. But I've _got_ to get out of here._

"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but I have a—uh, _meeting_ with a lady friend of mine in Nice. I've got to go." He stood, and Malfoy stood as well. Hermione followed suit. "It was nice to meet you Hermione. You're much different that I would have thought." _Much hotter, too._

"It was nice meeting you as well, Mister Zabini."

"Please, you're only a few years younger than me. My name is Calvin."

"Well," she laughed, "if you insist."

"I hope I get to see you again."

"Well, I think I'll be here all summer, if you need to find me." She smiled gently at him.

"Alright. Until next time. See you later Draco."

"Later, Cal." He apparated with a small _pop_ and instantly, Hermione felt more relaxed. Her head cleared up, and there were no more incessant thoughts and emotions that weren't hers. "Well, now it's just the two of us."

Hermione laughed uneasily, but Draco caught this. The proximity of their chairs was a huge factor, they were mere inches apart, and he pushed his chair back on the premise of wanting to prop his feet up on the table.

"He seems…nice."

"He's a prick."

"Or that." She laughed at him, her head tipping back, and her white teeth glinting in the summer light. He watched her throat move silkily with the sound. "But you're friends so I didn't want to come right out and say it."

"He didn't say but a score of words. How could you say he's a prick?"

Oh no. Think fast, Hermione. "It just rubbed off I suppose. I pick things up like that."

"So, am I a prick?"

I can't read your mind. I don't know when you're having perverted thoughts and such nonsense. "I couldn't tell you. You're… different."

"Different?"

"Yes." That was all she had to say. She didn't want to give away her secret. This wasn't normal, not even in the wizarding world. Like being a Parseltongue. It just wasn't natural. Not that having magical powers was natural, but still. She didn't want to end up at St. Mungo's.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" She was so confused. What was he talking about?

"Take a tour."

"Oh, of course."

He stood up next to her chair, offering her his arm. She looked up into his face, her curls pouring over her back.

She took it.

**So. That's that chapter. I wanted to introduce another character to reinforce my point. It wasn't what I had planned before I wrote it, but I think I like the way it developed. Do you?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Back, after a long postponement. I do apologize for my insensitivity throughout this hiatus. –M**

_My Dearest Ronald—_

_I hope Errol is okay; when he delivered that last letter he was looking rather ill. But that just may be because he runs into too many windows. Take good care of him though, okay? I would hate for you to lose him. Maybe you should use Pigwidgeon instead. I know he's little, but you know he's pretty strong. Anyways, I do need to get to the point of this letter; certain things have happened, and I can't make it to the Burrow this summer. I would like to have you and Harry come visit me where I'm staying, but we'll have to see how this pans out. It may be out of the question, I'm not really sure. I can't tell you where I am, in the case that this letter is intercepted, and I expect you to understand and not ask me to answer any questions. It would be safest for you not to reply to this letter, either. I'll get in touch with you hopefully, to see if you two can come out. If not, I'll see you at school for our final year at Hogwarts._

_--All my love and affection, Hermione_

Hermione put down her quill, blowing on the parchment to dry the glistening black ink. The sad expression on her face did not fade; she would miss her friends terribly, but she could not risk putting them into harm's way. She had a pack of Death Eaters after her now; there was no way she would even consider subjecting her friends to the same constant threat she was now under, something Malfoy did not cease to remind her of.

He had taken her on the tour of the Manor earlier (Manor was by far an understatement; his home was ridiculously huge. If he hadn't of been there with her, showing her all the turns and hallways, she was quite certain she would've gotten lost, and died, starving to death in the cold) and as they roamed the lush halls, he made sure to emphasize the fact that she was now, in essence, a refuge, seeking safety from Voldemort's followers. It would be best, he had advised, to cut communication with the outside world. If any of the letters were intercepted, and led to the Manor as her hiding place, any consequences to follow would not be pleasant. For her, or for her loved ones.

So she had to stay here, with only Malfoy and occasionally Calvin for company. Any visitations with her friends were going to have to wait, to see if any fallout from her rescue were to hit home upon Malfoy.

Once the ink dried, she rolled up the parchment, affixed her wax seal over the edge, and pushed the chair back from the desk. She looked up, leaning back in the seat, and saw the library walls which extend up into oblivion.

"Are you all finished, Granger?" The sudden voice startled her, and she lost her balance, falling all the way back to floor in her already off-balanced chair. She looked up at Malfoy sourly, rubbing the back of her head where it had hit the marble.

"Yes. Thanks for asking," she responded with more than a hint of malice. She glared at him, watching him turn red from holding his breath so he wouldn't laugh at her. He offered her his hand, and yanked her off the floor to her feet.

"I'm starving, are you ready to eat?"

"Is it time for supper already?" She looked at the grandfather clock across the corridor; half past six. The day had flown by, what with the tour of the Manor and all.

"Come on." He turned tail and started to walk towards the library doors, slowly, so his dinner companion could catch up to him.

"We don't have to change for dinner?" She teased. Throughout the day, she had teased him about the opulence of the Manor.

"No. We don't do that anymore. You know, it's really not all it's cracked up to be." He flashed his signature smirk.

When the pair entered the dining room, Draco went, as was his habit, to sit at the head of the table. Hermione took one of the chairs beside him, and instantly, their glasses were filled with wine and water, and a small salad appeared on the top plate. She smiled. Just like Hogwarts.

"So, Hermione. What is it you're planning on doing once school lets out? I mean, this is assuming, quite accurately in my opinion, that you will get above a perfect score on the NEWTs?" He waggled his fork at her, the tomato dangling precariously at the end of the tines, a drop of salad oil attempting to emancipate itself from the underside of the vegetable. He looked at it, considered a course of action, and popped it delicately into his mouth. He looked at Hermione as he chewed, and waited for a reply.

She sipped her water, and looked thoughtfully into the fireplace where a small blaze was crackling quietly before answering. "I've been thinking of becoming an auror. I took a test one time; you know those ones that the Ministry sends you over the summer, trying to recruit students to work for it once they graduate? I took one of those since I was deathly bored, and I did very well. I mean, I've got the logic and the common sense, which is definitely necessary, but then, I also have the know-how and the practical experience. That puts me far ahead of the rest of the pack. I would do very well."

"Yes. I can see that. You would make an excellent auror."

Hermione beamed at him, fiddling with a lock of hair that rested on her shoulder. "What about you, what were you planning on doing after we graduated?"

"Well, recently, I've been thinking of replacing Madame Hooch, as the Quidditch instructor up at Hogwarts. But that would involve my interaction with first years on a daily basis, so I'm not sure I could handle that. I'd end up at St. Mungo's before the term even finished. But I was also considering working with dragons. A bit like Charlie Weasley?" Hermione grinned. "I know, me wanting to be like a Weasley is odd, but oh well. It's lucrative, dangerous, exciting; everything a kid could ask for."

"Aren't you scared you might get, I don't know, _mangled_ by a dragon? Have you seen Charlie's arms? He's got scars all over the place."

"Well, that's a risk that comes with the job; trust me, I've looked into it. You're trained to do this; you have years of formal schooling under your belt before they let you go off on your own. But it's a risk I'm willing to take, being injured. Dragons are fascinating to me. I mean, come on, my name is Draco, for Merlin's sake. I'm bound to be at least somewhat interested in them. They're intelligent, resourceful, and emotional. They're just like wizards, but bigger and a tad more deadly."

"I don't know Draco. I know a good handful of wizards that are pretty deadly."

"That's because they're insane homicidal maniacs." He laughed, and forked up another tomato, eating it without any hesitations.

"Perhaps…" she trailed off, thinking about the war, and its effect on the inhabitants of the magical world she now called home.

A house elf entered, intruding on her thoughts. "Master Draco? Master Zabini is here to see you, sir. He's in the parlor." He bowed and exited the room, shuffling backwards, his small body still tilted towards the floor.

Draco stood up, and then excused himself. Hermione continued to work on her salad; she was rather hungry. She had just finished and was waiting on the next course when Draco returned, Calvin in tow.

"Nice to see you again, Hermione." _Oh no, I've interrupted their romantic dinner. Pity. _There was scathing contempt in his tone.

"And you, Calvin." He took the seat directly across from her at the table, and a small salad appeared on his plate. His glasses filled themselves. _Oh good. I'm starving. _

"We've only just started Calvin, so we don't mind waiting for you to catch up. Do we Hermione?" She shook her head, but noted the unhappy tone in Draco's voice. He was not pleased with this intrusion. _I'm not eating this crap. Do I look like a bloody rabbit?_

"I just love salads, don't you Mister Zabini?" Hermione twinkled. She was itching to get out of here, but her manners and Draco's reputation would hardly allow it. Her frustration had to manifest itself in other ways.

"Occasionally I'll have one." He finished his plate, and the next course magically appeared. _What the Christ is this?_

"Oh my favorite." Draco said delightedly. "I haven't had this in ages." He forked up a chunk of what appeared to be salmon with some sort of brown sugar-y, spice encrusted topping, and bit into it, closing his eyes in satisfaction. Calvin sighed in exasperation and followed suit.

…

Almost that entire meal was eaten in silence. Well, for Calvin and Draco it was. Hermione, however, could hardly focus on her salmon due to all the noise coming from across the table. As soon as the meal had finished, she excused herself from their presence, claiming a headache. Draco looked concerned but didn't ask questions. Calvin just nodded. And thought; loud thoughts.

Instead of heading up to her bedroom, like her companions had assumed, she went in the direction of the library. This whole situation was going to drive her batty if she couldn't get to the bottom of it. Why did she suddenly have the capacity to read Calvin and the Headmaster? She didn't hear Draco. Was it just those two that she could hear, or was it everyone excluding Draco? Was there a reason that she couldn't hear him specifically? She intended to find out.

She waited as the stone guards opened the tall doors for her to enter the library, then as she entered, she made a sharp left, where she knew the catalogue to be. She opened the heavy volume and searched _telepathy, extrasensory perception, mind-reading, _and _sixth sense_. There were dozens of books to choose from, and she read the titles, looking for one to jump out at her. There was one entitled _Gift or Curse ?: the Power of Reading Others_ by Hidalga Solano that seemed to resonate with her, so she looked up the location of it, and entered the library jungle in its search.

She found it, hiding on the darkened top shelf in some forgotten, dusty corner. She pulled a chair over so she could get high enough to reach it; she had long ago forgotten that she carried a wand. She was born a Muggle, and some habits were hard to break. If Ronald could see her now, he would be appalled.

She just got her fingers on the leather cover, struggling to pull it off the shelf, when she felt a tingle of magic and watched it float down to eye level. She turned quickly, almost losing her balance on the chair, to find Draco behind her, holding the book. He examined the cover and cocked an eyebrow.

**Well, how was that for a first day back, kids?**


End file.
